The Devil's Rain

This is a prime example of the type of film that haunted and disturbed me greatly when I saw it as a child. I had nightmares about a demonic Ernest Borgnine for months. Viewing it now I find it still holds up relatively well as a fairly well done 'satanic 70's horror' escapade. A disturbing nightmare of imagery and sound to invade your dreams...forever. And very impressive make-up Fx for the time. Who else grew up in the 70's haunted by the strange and dreamy horror films of the time? How does that "shape" childhood? I suppose one is influenced by whatever time they grew up in, but there was no other time like the 70's.

The Devil's Rain! is a movie that could only have been made in 1975, uniting old Hollywood royalty, television stars, the visionary director of The Abominable Dr. Phibes and the Church of Satan in the Mexican desert.

It is not a perfect movie. You can't even say that it has plot holes, as that would require something of a coherent plot — a fact director Robert Fuest was all too aware of. On the sparkling commentary track which accompanies the new blu-ray release from Severin (picked up from the Dark Sky DVD release), he speaks about discussions with the writers (Gabe Essoe, James Ashton and Gerald Hopman, whose only credit is co-producing Evilspeak, so one assumes that he is Satan) where they assured him that the script made perfect sense. While Fuest claims that he did what he could to clear up his issues with the film, what emerged was a movie that effectively decimated his promising directorial career.

But you know what? I embrace plot holes the way some critics hold dearly onto their Criterion collection films and back issues of Premiere. There's no way I can be objective about The Devil's Rain! The only box it doesn't check for me is a disclaimer stating that it's based on a true story.

The film begins with close-ups of Bosch's painting The Garden of Earthly Delights, along with the wails of the damned as they gnash their teeth in Hell. Then, we're dropped into the lives of the Preston family, who have suffered under a curse for hundreds of years.

Turns out that at some point in the 18th century, the family screwed over Jonathan Corbis (Ernest Borgnine, Escape from New York), a Satanist who was eventually burned at the stake. He had a book containing the souls of all he had damned, which was stolen by Martin Fyfe (William Shatner, who I don't need to tell you anything else about). Before he dies, Corbis vows revenge on the Fyfe family, which changes its name to Preston. He's been stealing them one by one, selling their souls to Satan and trapping them in the devil's rain. They then become living wax figures with melting eyes and black robes.

That's how we meet Steve Preston, the leader of the family, who has escaped Corbis to warn his wife (Ida Lupino, an actress (and director) known for noir classics like The Bigamist and On Dangerous Ground. She often referred to herself as the poor man's Bette Davis, as she was often offered the parts that Davis had turned down. She refused those parts so many times that Warner Brothers suspended her, so she used that time to learn the craft of directing on set. As roles for her slowed, she became the second female director admitted to the Director's Guild, following Dorothy Arzner, the sole woman director of Hollywood's "Golden Age.") and son, Mark (also Shatner). As the old man tells them to give the book of souls back, he melts in the rain.

So what does Mark do? Well, he takes the book directly to Corbis, challenging him to a battle of faith in the desert. That battle quickly turns into Mark trying to escape, but Corbis' disciples are too much for him. He shows a cross to the priest, who transforms it into a snake before using a ritual to erase Mark's memory in preparation for a major ceremony.

Oh the 1970's — when your main character gets wiped out minutes into a movie because he has to leave town for a three day Star Trek convention in New York. That really happened and I have no idea if that was the reason why Shatner goes from hero to geek in such record time.

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In mainstream American 1970s horror land 'The Devil's Rain' lies half way between the silly but still pretty good chills of 'The Car' or 'The Sentinel' and the so bad it's hilarious fun of 'The Eyes Of Lara Mars'. The main attraction here is the cast of familiar TV faces, which includes William Shatner and Tom Skerritt as brothers (which along with the presence of Joan Prather, makes this a 'Big Bad Mama' reunion!), Ernest Borgnine as a leering Satanic cult leader, 'Green Acres' Eddie Albert, veteran Ida Lupino, and a blink and you'll miss it cameo from a pre-superstar John Travolta. The plot concerns a much sought after book and devil worship, but really who cares? Sit back and enjoy the (unintentional) laughs, some classic emoting from Shatner, and the overly long face-melting scenes, which according to the video box is "absolutely the most incredible ending of any motion picture"! And dig that Borgnine goat face!

Two of the most acclaimed occult horror films of the 1970s—William Friedkin's notorious shocker The Exorcist and Richard Donner's biblical prophecy classic The Omen—succeeded in terrifying audiences by treating their supernatural subject matter with absolute realism. For his 1975 Satanic horror The Devil's Rain, Robert Fuest (director of the absurdly enjoyable Dr. Phibes movies) employed Anton LaVey, founder of the Church of Satan, as technical adviser, presumably to lend his film a similar sense of credibility and level of authenticity.

Despite this, however, Fuest still managed to turn out one hell of a cheesy film, one rife with trite occult stereotypes and embarrassingly creaky old-school horror trappings. Hooded eyeless acolytes, a raging thunder storm, an ancient tome written in blood, a centuries old curse, a deserted church in a ghost town decorated with Satanic symbology: it's all there, along with tinted flashbacks to 'ye olde days' and a demon with curly horns and a goat-like face.

For audiences still reeling from Linda Blair's rotating head, this approach proved less than thrilling, but for today's cult movie fans, for whom a high level of kitsch can only be considered a bonus, Fuest's seriously daft slice of diabolical horror should still prove a reasonably entertaining oddity. The Devil's Rain is by no means a good film, but it conjures up a strange hallucinatory atmosphere (largely due to the sheer incoherence of the script), offers some impressively gloopy special effects during the film's melt-tastic finalé, and delivers plenty of unintentional hilarity at the expense of its usually reliable cast (any film that features John Travolta in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it role as a blind devil worshipper, sees Ernest Borgnine sporting hilarious demonic makeup, and has William Shatner reciting the Lord's prayer in his trademark staccato style has surely got to be worth a look for curiosity's sake).

This is what I call a fun film. It's so bad, its good.

It's not supposed to be funny, but you cannot help but laugh. William Shatner kicks royal butt in this for his performance is the funniest...well, I'll be honest, he's running neck and neck with Ernest Borgnine. Early, early performance of John Travolta is to die for. This is a film that you rent, get a big bowl of buttered popcorn with lots of water/soda and just enjoy it for schlock's sake. You know this film was about nothing but a paycheck for everyone in it.

But I must give credit where credit is due. I love watching the 'melting' scene. Loads of fun. This is good entertainment from the "who green lighted this mess?" area of your brain. This was no "The Exorcist" but remember around this time, everyone wanted to do a "devil" film. This one is just funny and in a not supposed to be funny way!